Amber was a five year old sable when Angel entered her life. Angel's goal in life seemed to be to torment Amber. Amber would be in the yard sleeping and Angel would come racing at her and jump on top of her. Or Angel would get on top of Amber and chew on her ears. Amber would lay there and whine but never take any action towards Angel. Poor Ambers ears for awhile were purple, but she tolerated everything Angel did to her. Amber never liked to be crowded when she was sleeping, even to the extent that we could not lay down next to her. If we did she would just get up and move away a little. We always joked that it was because she came from a litter of thirteen and she wanted her room now. But if Angel curled up next to her she would just stay put. This continued until Angel was almost a year old. Then Amber would growl if Angel tried any of her tricks. It didn't take Angel long to figure out that it was all just a bluff. Over the years they would play and run together. The only time that they weren't together was when Amber would go into the lake for a swim. Amber would go out far enough so she had to swim and then swim parallel to the shore while we walked. Angel always seemed to think that Amber was crazy. When Amber finally left us Angel wasn't quite the same. Ten weeks after Ambers passing Angel had to have some surgery and died the day after. My wife and I believe she missed Amber to much. But ten days before Angels passing, unknown to us, our new collie "Brandi" was born.
They were sable collies, one light and one dark, named Amber and Angel. When we would go to our place in northern Wisconsin they would be excited to go along. They loved the place, for they had room to run and play. They were taught that they couldn't leave the yard area without permission, except for an area down a small hill and that was there place to do there duty. Every time when we would arrive there and let the dogs out of the car they would go down this hill and Amber would come back almost immediately. But angel would be awhile. We just figured that she was sniffing around. At night when we would be around the campfire the dogs would wonder down the hill and again Amber would come back right away but Angel would be later. We never really wondered about this because they never left the area, even if we went away. We discovered this when we put up a pen for them and put them in it. When we would return they were out of the pen and Amber would be sleeping by the driveway and Angel on the deck. No matter how many times we tried to keep them in there they would get out. It was like they were saying, "We will stay in the yard but we won't be penned up." Finally in the fall we arrived right after a light snow had fallen. We let the dogs out and unloaded the car. Amber had returned but Angel was still gone, I decided that with the fresh snow I could see what she did all the time. I followed her tracks, here she would walk the perimeter of our land. We had cut a trail just inside our land to walk along and would take the dogs with us. Angel would follow this trail and then return. Later I followed and discovered that this is what she did while we sat around the campfire. I figured she was just doing sentry duty. Not once did she leave our land during her patrols.
She was only 5 months old, a tri-color named Brandi. She loves children and just sits and watches them if she can't get to where they are. In the car she will cry when we pass some. Our neighbors, near our land which we camp on, have two boys and a three year old girl named Sarah. Sarah was afraid of Brandi because of her color. She would play with the sables we had the year before but not Brandi. Her parents said it was because of a relative who had a black dog that was always knocking her down. When Brandi would come over to her she would always yell at her to go away and run for her parents. One night, in September, Sarah, her parents and ourselves were sitting around the campfire. Sarah had just got over a cold but still had a cough. She was laying on a chair half asleep. The cold air had started her coughing. Brandi would stand by the chair and whine, then come by me and whine. She would then go back to Sarah and watch her and whine. Finally she would lean in and give Sarah's face a little kiss. When her coughing would stop Brandi would lay down next to the chair and not move. Sarah would cough again and Brandi would immediately stand up, lean in and give her a couple of kisses. Sarah would stop coughing and Brandi would lay down next to the chair. This repeated until Sarah's parents took her home. After that night Sarah would play with Brandi, much to Brandi's joy.
The year was 1967. I was 12 and my family was staying at a house one mile from the beach in Carmel, California. I took our family beagle, Prince, for a run on the beach. I noticed a sable collie nosing around Prince. He was very friendly to me as well and continued to trail after us as we made our way along the surf. There were always many free running dogs at the beach but usually the owners kept a close eye on them. I looked in vain for an owner but no one appeared. I figured perhaps his owner was out surfing or fell asleep in the sun.
When it came time to leave, he was still with us and I didn't want him to come with us because then his owner would have no chance of finding him. As hard as it was for me to speak harshly to him, I did so to dissuade him from following us up the hills to the house. I told him, "go home, go back, run along", to no avail. He would not turn back and the three of us finally reached the house. As I walked in my mother looked at the collie and said "Oh my goodness, a collie! I just heard on the local radio station someone lost a collie! Let's call."
A short while later a woman appeared at the gate to claim her collie. He rushed up to greet her and she was so relieved and thanked us profusely. As we said our goodbyes, the collie left her side, walked across the yard to me, kissed my hand and returned to his mistress's side. I was so touched, so astonished at his sensitivity, intelligence and warmth.
He was so smart to follow us, so sweet to thank me and I never forgot him. Seven years later when I went off to college I bought my first collie, Drake. But that is a story for another day....
J. Ronstadt
Dollhaven Perry Blu Lancelot, "Lance" has taken a special place in my heart for the wonderful things he has accomplished in his short life so far. When he arrived at our house, he was ever the gentleman even at 4 mos....I had an extremely shy preschooler at the time who was going to a special school because he had a hard time communicating to others and would suddenly fly into a temper tantrum that baffled all the experts....After Lance came to live with us, he formed a special bond with my little boy and slowly but surely a miraculous change occurred to the point the teachers exclaimed that they just had to meet "that wonderful dog". Today, family members still shake their heads at the change.
But Lance has changed all our lives, especially mine. At 9 mos he was sitting beside us by the porch swing, when suddenly I heard a horrific cracking, crashing sound and was suddenly knocked forward by Lance. It happened so fast that I didn't even have the remotest idea what happened other than my left shoulder hurt. Here, when we fixed the leaking roof on the old house, the porch roof finally had a chance to dry out and subsequently the old wood finally shrank around the screws that held the porch swing in place. Not only had the screws that held the swing we were sitting on pulled out, but the ceiling came down as well. My husband had the presence of mind to jump out of the way...but I didn't move until Lance knocked me out of the way....I only suffered severe cuts and bruises on my left side instead of a concussion or broken neck from the falling timbers thanks to Lance. Thankfully, Lance wasn't injured in his part of the heroics.
Thanks for letting me share why I consider collies to be so special. Lance is learning to be a therapy dog now and I'm sure I'll have many more stories in the years to come.
Marylyn Hise
In April on 1996, my beloved blue merle Hazy became violently ill. We rushed him to the vet to find out that he was fine and would probably live a good bit longer. It was not more than a week later that Hazy became worse. He laid around the house, and struggled to go outside. Each time we left the house we dreaded to return for fear that he had crossed the rainbow bridge. As my parents returned home late Sunday evening, Hazy was just listless. He would not eat nor drink. We knew the end was near. As my parents sat with him, not more than fifteen minutes after their arrival home he passed on. He had waited to be with someone. He did not want to die alone. Hazy died with his head in mother's hand. The following February a beautiful tri male came into my life. Hazy name carried on, it was his nephew that I had acquired. Hazy is now 18 months old and bares the striking resembles of his uncle, not to mention they have the same dispostition. Although Hazy is still missed, we remember that he lives on daily in the things that his namesake does.
My Story about My collie is one that has touched my, and many other's hearts.
She had just finished her Canadian Championship which gave her the name
"CH.NORELYWN'S DREAMS A LITTLE DREAM". She was my Sable Rough Collie
"Sara".
My sister and I had purchased her from a breeder and we were planning to
start our kennel with Sara. She started off a rolley polley brown ball of
fur. She grew up to be a gracious and glorious collie.
She loved life. She loved people, and most of all she loved her collie
pals - Keira and Skeeter - My two older collies. She wanted nothing better
to do than terrorize Keira, bark at anything that moved outside the yard,
eat her dinner AS FAST as she could and curl up beside me at bedtime.
At 14 months old, she become ill. She was throwing up anything that she
ate, but there were no signs of diarrhea. It was odd. She was not
throwing up constantly, but I could tell she was in pain.
Rushing her to the vet, I assumed the worst - BLOAT. But the signs were
not there.
The exrays did not show Bloat. In fact they did not show anything. She
was clearly getting worse.
They sent her to emergency to stay overnight for observation. In giving
her a die, they did find a problem the next morning. On another exray,
the die was leaking FROM OUTSIDE HER STOMACH. It was an ulcer. It had
blown a hole in her stomach and the contents of her stomach we emptying into
her abdomen. They had to try surgery.
The vet informed me that she has a 1% chance of survival. She was being
poisoned....
It took almost 2 hours to patch up the hole where the ulcer was and 9
bags of saline solution to clean her out.
She probably would not make the night. If she did, it would be a MIRACLE.
I left for home in tears, saying all sorts of prayers that I could.
She couldn't leave me yet. There was so much she had to do. So much I
had to say to her.
The night was long. I didn't sleep.
When morning finally rolled around, a call from the vet came. I expected
to hear the words - I am sorry, but instead the vet was shocked.
"She made it, Sara actually made it." I couldn't believe it. They told
me we were not out of the woods yet, but that a MIRACLE had actually
happened!
For the next 8 days, I visited her on a regular basis, sang to her a
special song, talked to her, and told her she had a lot of strength left and
that I loved her. We all needed her. In the midst of the 8 days, I broke
my ankle, but still hobbled in and out of the vet.
On Day 9, loaded up with a veterinary dog food, medication and my Sara we
headed home. I was amazed how when she hit the outside air, and actually
knew she was going home, her major recovery started that moment.
Sara, Princess Sara, as she is known today (spoiled you can guess), is
now 5 1/2 years old.
She is my "Bear", my "Babe" my "SoulMate", my "Friend". She is there to
take the crumbs off the counter, catch the food that falls from the
"Skies", eat the cat litter, chase the cats, pick on the other the collies. She
thinks she is queen, and I feel she is well deserving.
She hates the crows, loves my husband, hates to have her toe nails cut,
but loves Life.
She again barks at anything that moves outside the yard, but most of all,
She is MY MIRACLE.
I believe without the prayers and words, she may not have made it. To
this day, I still sing her her song:
"You've got a little life in you yet,
I know you have a lot of strength left,
I should have said all those things that I never said,
I should have done all those things that we never did!"
.....Sara Knows.....
To You Sara.....My Miracle Collie
THANK YOU LANCER !
Sincerely,
Sonya
mchambers@campbellcounty.com
Since handling a home, children and a job turned out to be too much for me I left my job. My husband said "Well it looks like we won't be able to afford the puppy". But, God had other plans. My dad and I were speaking on the phone and he said "I want to send you some money to help out your family." I told him no everything was find. It wasn't his custom to give us money to help out, so our conversation ended with thanks dad everything is fine. Not a week later, I received a check in the mail for exactly $300. May dad didn't know a thing about the puppy we were hoping to get yet God had other plans. My husband said, well we have the rest of the money for the puppy lets get it. Even though we could have used the money for other things. We went ahead and paid the rest of the money due to get our puppy. We had put our deposit for our puppy down months before Christmas. Yet, a beautiful fluffy puppy was placed in my lap with a Red Bow around her neck a couple of weeks before Christmas. I had months before seen this special puppy sitting at our door with a red bow around her neck and there she was. Not planned to be bought around Christmas, but that is how it worked out. And so Candy became our very special little girl dog. Our Christmas gift from God. She had special eyes ... angel eyes. The kindest, sweetest dog anyone could want. She was very loving, and loved everyone especially little children, older people and even animals. She would play and pray with us every day. She would wait to say hello to someone walking with a little child. She was very loved and cared about and never was mean to anyone. We named here Candy and her name fit her well through all the years. The sweetest dog ever. Candy lived to be 12 yrs. old and just a few weeks before Christmas of this year 1999 she went home to be with the Lord and is in heaven now running and playing. We miss her very much and her beautiful Angel Eyes. Some day we will see her again. So until then, "May the Lord Keep you and Bless you" my little puppy dog Candy.
She knew special songs I sung through the years.
Now I must add another chapter to this tale. If you read the first story it commemorates my Tri, Dylan and how he brought Levi Blue into my life. Now it saddens me to have to commemorate Levi Blue. With his passing on September 5, 2005 I am a lost soul just like he was when he was lead to my home by a force beyond our understanding. Levi (which is the name that I had bestowed upon him) was in a local shelter for a month with no hope of life. It was an honor and a privilege to have him become a member of our family. I am sorry for the family that gave him up to the shelter or perhaps had lost him, but I thank God every day for the limited time that he was a part of my life. I hope that as he is playing in the lush fields over the Rainbow Bridge he knows just how much my arms ache to hold him again. Until we meet again, “I love you”!
King was actually our second Collie as we had Lady on the farm until we moved to the city so my father could get his degree from Purdue University.
We had just moved into our new home and I said I wanted a dog, one like Lady. We went to a breeder. There were around 5 puppies and I love a rolly polly female. My hair was very long and Mom had it in braids. There was this one puppy who enjoyed grabbing my braids and hanging from them. Well, we took that puppy and named him King. He was a pure sable with a full rough. Mom had put him in her sweater so he wouldn't be frightened.
King had gotten all his shots but still had distemper. He spent several weeks at our Vet and my parents told me he was very sick and he might go to doggy heaven. I came home from school one day and my parent's bedroom door was closed. Mom asked me to open it and out came King flying and giving me all kinds of kisses to dry my happy tears. That was one of the happiest moments of my childhood. He didn't have any problems after he came home due to the distemper. The Vet never knew how he had gotten it.
We had the biggest yard and my Dad had gotten a complete gym set for me. All the kids were always in our yard and King was right in the middle. Always, trying to herd the kids like our Collies are noted for.
King saved my life twice. My grandmother had the family farm and we would take King with us when we would go to visit. I also had my horse on the farm. I would always gather the eggs for my grandmother. That was a big thing. This one time I had to go by the sows with their piglets which I had done several times and had no fears. I walked by the piglets and of course they started making noise.. The sow didn't like that at all. She charged me.
King was not with me but he was on the other side of the gate. She had me trapped from both the hen house and the gate. King climbed the gate and started circling her. Of course by this time I was screaming. It ended up that King was between me and the sow with all teeth showing. By this time my grandmother had seen what was going on. My Dad came out and found a board and got the sow away. I was plastered against a tree, King was in front of me then the sow. Needless to say, I don't like sows too much after that. But our beautiful Collie knew what to do.
We had a small patch of woods next to our house. My cousin was young as I am eight years older than he is. We decided to go for a small walk and King was with us. My cousin and I stepped into a hornet's nest and they swarmed. We ran to the house and had to be rushed to the Doctor. King was put into the house. When we got back, this beautiful Collie's long Lodestone nose was swollen as well as his lips and tongue. My Mom made a call to our Vet at that time, and he said if he wasn't dead he should be as one bee sting is normally fatal to a dog. We gave him benadryl and he was okay. His mouth was sore for several days. When the bees started swarming, he went in and was snapping at them. This was the second time he saved my life.
In the early 60's Mom had to have two spinal fusions being in a body cast for the second one. When they removed the cast, they didn't know if she would walk again. She relearned to walk with one hand on King's back and one on the hall way wall.
My cat had also had a litter of kittens and they were in a box in Mom and Dad's bedroom. There were four kittens. If they made the smallest of noises, King would beat Blackie into see what was wrong with them. As they grew up with King, one of them, Bibby, was his real buddy. Poor King couldn't be too far away from Bibby or she would start crying to let him know about it. Then that long nose was rolling her over and over. He looked out for them too.
Instead of bringing dog treats, when my Grandfather would come up, he would bring King a loaf of bread. King loved bread. You could put a steak down for him and he wouldn't touch it but if bread fell it was gone in a heart beat.
My Mom had to go to Mayo's in 1965. She would call as my grandmother was taking care of me. King had started vomiting and my Aunt and I had taken him to the Vet and it was discovered he had cancer. He was not in pain but it was hard to tell Mom he was okay. He lived for three months after that. For those who remember it, we gave him Metrical and Pepto Bismol along with prescription medication. He started getting very weak. We knew the end was very near, On Saturday, Dad said he was going to take him to the Vet on Monday. When Dad got up on Sunday morning and went to get the paper, King raised his head and thumped his tail. Dad sat down and put King's head in his lap and King looked up at him and took his last breath. I remember hearing Dad say he was gone and I didn't want to leave my room.
He put a blanket over him and Bibby kept the other cats away. It was as if to say I lost my best friend and don't bother him. My grandfather and Dad built a casket for him and he is buried in the back yard under his favorite tree. of the house I grew up in. Both my Dad and grandfather were crying.
I made Mom and Dad take me to my Grandparent's as I didn't want to be without my King.
He was my buddy. The next Sunday there was an ad for Collie puppies and my Mom, Aunt and I went to look at them. There were two and when we drove in, one looked so much like King we brought him to my grandparent's. My Dad was upset as he said he had just buried his dog. This opens another chapter to my Collie stories.
There is no other breed but Collies. They are loyal and the unconditional love they give cannot be compared to any other bread. That is the reason we have number six and seven now. Number seven was our first foster dog through our Collie Rescue and I couldn't give him up.
I know there are many other things that I have forgotten or are just very deep in my memory.
Cindy
April 18, 2000
Rebel was our third Collie. We had him a week after our King had died. My Mom, Aunt and I went to a Collie breeder and there were two puppies standing at the fence to meet us. He had already picked us out. After getting his AKC registration papers, I held him very close to me so he wouldn't be scared on his first car ride back. He was the starting of our Mahogany Sables.
We went back to my Grandparent's home and my Dad didn't even want to see him. He said he had just lost his dog and he really didn't want another one. Later on in this story all that changed.
Rebel weighed about eight pounds. My cats weighed more than he did. He couldn't really figure out what they were. I think he thought they were strange puppies. Bibby, that had been King's buddy, got Rebel's third eye lid. They had not been declawed yet. I think Bibby was trying to tell him that he didn't belong here. Again that changed.
Rebel was our "water" Collie. We had ceramic tile in our guest bathroom. We kept his food and water in there. Well, Rebel loved to tip his water bowl over and lay in the water. It was very hard to keep water for him. When he was about four months old and the water and food were moved to the kitchen, Dad had to replace the floor in the bathroom. He loved to play in the water from the hose when we had it on. Of course, he would shake in the house.
I had a white furry throw rug in my bedroom and Rebel took that over as his own. He would carry it like a small child would. Mom would wash it, but Rebel couldn't be around or he would fight you for it. There was one small piece left when he died and that was put in the casket with him.
We always took Rebel to my Grandparents'. My Grandmother would rock him to sleep or let him play in a large was tub of water. Rather spoiled, don't you think? My grandmother had really taken a shine to him.
My parents got me a brand new 1966 Mustang, as my Father was an Engineer at Ford. When I would have the top down, Rebel always wanted a ride. I would just take him up and down our street as I was afraid he might jump out.
My parents had decided to buy a his and her's chair with matching foot stool. Wrong thing to do. One night we had not taken Rebel with us and when we got home he didn't meet us at the front door. Dad spotted it first. Rebel had a small snack on the new furniture. We found him under the bed. He knew he was in trouble but this dog had never been whipped or even yelled at.
Dad decided we would take him to obedience classes. He was about nine months old then. We went to classes that was sponsored by the German Shepherd Club as they were supposed to be the best. I was his handler. I saw my first Sheltie there. So as you can see it was not only Shepherds but all breeds. They did not use any type of rough training. It was really the basics. The last night of class they held a mock trial. We were tied in first place with a little older Shepherd. We had to walk them and the first one to sit when we stopped was the winner. We could not say anything or even touch their leads. Watching the other dogs was the most important thing on their minds. Then Rebel started to sit but came right back up. He did this one more time then he sat and stayed. Oh, what a big hug I gave him and told him how good he was. Everybody were clapping since a Collie won over a Shepherd.
Now he should not be getting into anything, right? Wrong! Mom and Dad had just had the house carpeted. It was a gold color. Mom had a big pot of rubber tree plants that she had just watered that day. When we got home Rebel was again no where to be found. He had gone and taken each plant out of the pot, wet dirt and all. It was a mess! When it all dried, Dad was able to get the rest of the dirt out of the carpet. Rebel really hadn't made too many good points with Dad as of yet. Dad stilled missed "his dog King."
My ex-husband and I were washing our Mustangs in the summer before we were married in September. I had gotten done before he did so I got him with the hose. Of course I knew what was going to happen so I ran to the house. I was running through the house so he couldn't get me as he was chasing me. Rebel thought he was trying to hurt me and bit him in the seat of his pants. He drew blood. We really had a good laugh out of that one. Needless to say, he never chased me again when Rebel was around.
In 1971 my Parent's bought a house with five acres. My Dad had been raised on a farm. Rebel was around five years old then. He loved all the extra space that he could play in but he was never let out unless someone was with him. I had a Sheltie then since we were in an apartment and it was too small to have a Collie. Mom and Dad would baby sit her when my ex and I would go to his parents in Illinois. We had left her there for a Memorial Day Weekend. We went to pick her up and left the garage door open as my parents were not home. When they got home they heard a puppy crying. It was a little black puppy that someone had dumped. They ran ads but could not find an owner. They kept it and she was named Knight. Rebel and Knight became more than buddies, they became soul mates. Rebel kept her in line until she had grown and even after that. She was part black Lab and German Shepherd.
Rebel did have a love affair. It was with Lady, my blue female Sheltie. This was right from the beginning when I got her at eight weeks of age. I got her from the same breeder that we had gotten Rebel from. Mom would baby-sit her while we were at work. I have or had a picture of Rebel sitting and Lady had her whole head buried in his rough. She is so small that she looked like a cat.
Finally after a few years, Dad loved Rebel as much as he loved King. It did take about 6 years for Dad to break him of any obedience stances I had put him in. He finally made it though.
Rebel also loved French Onion dip for potato chips. My parents were having a small party and they were in a rush to get things done. They set the dip on the coffee table and didn't think about it. Rebel was not a "stealer" of food. Mom took a last look at everything to make sure that everything was okay. There was a perfect imprint of a tongue in the French Dip. Dad had to make a flying trip to the store to get more. Needless to say Rebel was never near the dip again. We have never confined our dogs when company came as they were part of our home and who could turn down a Collie anyway?
When my parent's moved we had more than enough pasture for a horse. So of course Mom and I went and got one. I had also had horses since I was five. I think it took Rebel a little while to figure out just what this was. When he did, what did he do? Started herding of course. It was funny to watch him since he had never been around any type of live stock. You could really see his natural ability to do it. Most important, he kept away from her hooves. He also taught Knight to herd.
Rebel would lay at the head of the basement stairs waiting for Dad every night when he came home from work. It is so surprising how a dog knows what time it is. He would hear him pull into the garage and he was flying down the stairs. He had become Dad's dog by then. Dad never did sleep in on the weekends but if he did, Rebel would lick him on the back to get him. If this didn't work, then he would go for the feet. My Dad and I couldn't stand to have our feet touched, so Rebel would have him up right away.
We got an emergency call from Ford that Dad was sick and I was closest. I got there very quickly but he was just taken to the hospital. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer and died one month later. Rebel still laid at the top of the stairs. He stopped eating and drinking. We had to have a Vet that made house calls come to see him. He gave him IV's and special food. He didn't think Rebel would make it. When he came on the third day, Rebel was barking and greeted him at the door. It took time for him to realize that Dad was not coming home.
Mom moved to the house I live in now in 1975 along with Knight, Rebel and my three cats. This house has a very large yard but Rebel had started to advance in age. He was fine for about two years then arthritis set in. He was crippled up but would still play with Knight and my Aunt's English Bulldog. Our Vet just couldn't believe it so Mom took pictures. He said if Rebel could still do that then we still had time with him. My uncle made him a ramp with carpet so he could get in and out the slider door but he still had not given any signs of giving up. He was still the boss of the house.
It was in February of 1976 that his liver stated to fail due to the medications he was on. He had given up the battle and was put to sleep next to my Mom's bed and then buried in a Pet Cemetery not far from here. He would have been twelve in April.
He was a beautiful Collie and gave that unconditional love that our Collies give.
Cindy
My story of collies is as follows.
All of my life I have had collies. My parents bought our first collie when they were married in 1973 and to this day we still have a collie.
We have had four sable coloured rough collies. Three of them were named Lady. The reason for this, mum and dad named the first one Lady and being as little as we were we continued the tradition.
Our first lady died in 1984 of cancer. We went without a dog for nine months whilst building a new house, but once we moved we were given Lady 2 as a present. Lady only lived for nine months as she was hit by a car and contract parvo. The day she died my grandparents and parents bought us Lady 3. Lady was an extremely quiet dog and lovely natured and we lost her three years ago to cancer at the age of 12.
Lady died whilst I was visiting Walt Disney World for my 21st birthday. My parents not wanting to tell me about it told me she was sick. The day I arrived back in Australia both my parents greeted me at the airport and I knew that she was gone. I actually knew in my heart that she died the day she did but did not want to believe it.
Being my birthday I was surprised when I arrived home with a beautiful little baby girl who was 10 weeks old and was presented to me as my surprise 21st birthday present. Being my dog I decided to name her Misty. My parents had chosen Misty from a breeder who had two little girls left. The reason Misty was chosen was being smart as she is she bounded over to my father and would not leave his side.
Misty has been a great joy, although my mother and father may not agree.
Misty has a thing for water, lawn mowers and just general noise. If a tap is on in a 50 meter radius she can hear it and starts to bark and run around and get over excited, the same reaction with noise and building sites.
When we were building our new house she suffered depression and had to be medicated as she would not walk or leave the back yard. Having returned to normal she has turned into houdini the escape dog.
Her latest performance was standing as a big bear would and shaking the pool safety gate until it opened and proceeded to run off down the street with my uncle and grand parents chasing her.
Misty also has a tendancy to believe she is human. She eats caviar, smoked cheese, dip, oysters, prawns, chicken, mashed potato, pasta, rice, pizza and every other food that we consume. As a puppy she was carried around like a baby and spoilt by the whole family as she was little and now she believes she is one of us and likes to live in the laundry.
She has three teddy bears that are her favourite and she loves her Silvester and Tweety. Our vet has even said that she is one of the smartest dogs she has ever seen and she is so intelligent that she is smarter then her owners and has us wrapped around her paw!
I love my dog and would do anything to be able to keep her around for the rest of my life. Where ever I live in future years will be dictated by if I am allowed to have Misty with me or not.
I am Samantha. A Collie. Once I was young and beautifull and the Grants loved me. But that was long ago and far away. They bred me and I had puppies that sold for handsome prices..Father Grant quit his regular job and was enthused about the future in "Dog Breeding". Things went down hill from there..Puppy sales didn't pay the bills. Litters were lost. Vet bills piled up. Now,.......
I don't sleep anymore..my body aches..my sores never stop complaining.
The kennel is cold. The
Floor still wet from when the kennel hand hosed it down, splattering me
in the process. The urine and
the feces from the dogs on either side of me, splashing into my coat..
Sally, the doberman bitch on my left, has the runs, and it stinks
horribly..
Andy, the GSD bitch on my right is always cross..she never got over
losing her family when the Grant family bought her and brought her
here...She is full of grief and pain, and Father Grant says that if she
doesn't have a litter next breeding, she "goes away".
Off in the distance I can hear other dogs barking, cars swishing by on
the freeway a few blocks away. I long for the children I hear playing
across the ravine in back of the kennel..One of The children, the little
Ramirez boy, Fred, looks at me with warmth in his eyes from the school
bus as it goes by. I catch a faint trace of his odor through the open
window as the wind delivers it to me.. he smiles at me and waves
sometimes..but I usually don't appreciate it fully, because I am
yearning for Johnny to stop as he goes by my run..most times he just
says, "Hi Samantha", and goes on into the house..The times he does stop
in front of my run, I am so excited and desperate to see him that I jump
up on the gate and splash water on his school clothes and he backs off
in disgust. "Darn it Sam, look what you've done now" and he goes into
the house..The disappointment tears my insides and I bark desperately,
throwing myself against the gate until Father throws something at me and
yells..
From the house I smell odors of cooking that make my jaws ache as the
saliva starts and my mouth waters uncontrollably, making a slurry
of the floor of my run.
I hear the sounds of the TV from the downstairs and Johnny's voice
talking on his cell phone from his upstairs bedroom..
I keen softly, remembering days when Father Grant bought me when I was a
pup and first brought me here, and Johnny took me everywhere with him.
When I was young and soft. Now I am older and gaunt from all these
litters..Now my days and nights are spent in this 6' x 15' run. Each day
running into the next in an unbroken stream..each pan of dry dog food
like the last..tasteless, but keeping me alive for litter after
litter...
An occasional wave from Johnny as he passes my run on his way to catch
the school bus, breaking my heart with his lack of love for me now. I
hurt when I remember how good it was in those days when Johnny was my
everyday companion. Him showing me off to all his friends, their
appreciative murmurs; scratches and rubs from all and sundry..Days spent
ambling in the country side..Me dashing ahead to investigate every nook
and cranny. Him telling me it was me and him forever. Promising to
always love me.
Cindy, the import puppy they just bought, captures his attention
now..The hated Cindy goes everywhere with Johnny now. Sniffing
disdainfully at the odor from my run as they pass on the way to
somewhere in the afternoons, after school. I ache somewhere inside when
the sound of their passing is beyond even my ability to hear. I ache all
the time now..the cold concrete makes my hips hurt,.and it is wet all
the time. My coat full of the dampness. My ears clogged with dirt and
wax.
The itching from the fleas is constant..And at night the rats
bring more. When I bark to warn the Family of the rats, Father
throws a pail of water at me and say's, "Shut up out there".
Mother Dear brings my pan of food in the morning and sometimes she puts
a bit of left overs in the pan..And sometimes she stays a few minutes
and talks to me..mostly of her troubles with Father, or the bills.
Otherwise I don't think I could stand it here anymore. I am starting to
think about just going away. I find myself watching for a chance to run
past Mother dear and out the door when she brings my food..but I love
her so much and I am so hungry for her touch and kind words that I
always let the opportunity slip by.
Father is drinking more now. Sometimes he curses me for not
having big enough litters, or for needing to go to the vet..or for
whining for him as he passes my run on the way to somewhere mysterious
that humans are always going to..
Its been a long time since we went to the Vet.."Can't afford it", Father
would say to Mother Dear when she mentions my coat infection, or my ear
infection..my coat itches all the time now..patches coming out and raw
skin exposed. My once beautiful coat..now in tatters..
Mother dear looking at me sadly when Father reminds her that the small
litters are a sign that its time for 'Samantha' to go 'bye bye', what
ever that means.
The only reason I'm still here is that I used to be Johnny's dog
and Johnny would be upset if I were to "go away".. Although Johnny
never plays with me anymore now that Cindy is here.
"Tomorrow", I tell my self.."Tomorrow, I'll rush the gate and leap the
fence and go away.."
Another long cold night. The rats are getting bolder now..The
kennel hand doesn't clean up the food he spills, and he never sweeps
under the cupboards and stairs anymore. And the rats are becoming more
numerous..They have a nest under the kennel floorboards now..lots of
little ones. I hear them scampering and squealing at night..The stink of
their urine is strong all the time now. They are thick with fleas, and
the smell of their fleas is wrong..something wrong in them..something
rides in the fleas..something wicked. I want to tell Johnny about this,
but he doesn't listen anymore the way he used to.
Johnny used to understand me sometimes when I was really desperate to
tell him something..somehow he knew.. Now there is a distance between
us. A distance too great to bridge. Something has died between us. I
keen as I think of it. The hunger in my soul rides the Keening on the
night wind..I send my heartache out to all who would listen. And Keen,
and Keen. And Keen... A neighbor shouts..."CAN'T YOU SHUT THAT STUPID
DOG UP?" Father throws a pail of water at me. I make up my mind..I feel
puppies inside me and they will not be born into this horror. I would
not run for me..but I will for them..Tomorrow I run..
Morning breaks. The family rises. I wait. I say Good-bye to
Johnny as he passes on the way to school..my heart clogs up with grief,
that I will never see him again, but I know the lamp of his love for me
has gone out, and the hurt is too much to bear anymore. Finally Mother
dear comes with my food and my mouth waters because I am always a little
bit hungry, this time I patiently wait until Mother dear sets the pan
down and I bolt past her out the kennel door.."Samantha", she shouts,
"Get back here right now"..But I am gone ..over the fence..my heavy old
body barely clearing the points of the picket fence that once I sailed
over for the sheer joy of the jump..Mother dears voice thins on the wind
that rushes past my face.."freeedommmm", the wind sings to
me.."Freeedommm...."
I run and run and run until I can run no more and then throw
myself down heavily in the grass at the bottom of the ravine. I am a
long ways from home know. These are the places Johnny and I used to play
in those long ago days. I can smell traces of Cindy here...and it makes
me sad that he has brought another here..A song drifts out of the window
of a house up the side of the ravine.."Ain't it sad when you wake up in
the morning, and you find that them other days are gone".
I shake off the memories and run some more..it is good to be free
after years of 'the run..'
I amble now..picking up traces of smells from things that burrow
and scratch in the dirt and from squirrels and birds and other
dogs..half wild dogs..tame dogs and the smell of coyote. The coyotes do
not bother me. Their 25 lb bodies cannot hurt me..But the smell of half
wild dogs makes me nervous because of the babies inside me ..I avoid the
stronger traces of their smell and take a detour..scrambling up the side
of the ravine I catch a trace of little Fred Ramirezs' smell, and angle
toward it. I follow it to the back yard of a small stucco house with a
red tile roof. There is a little girl of about two playing in the back
yard in a walker, pushing it around and around..a young mother hanging
clothes on a line..
I yip..the little girl looks up and breaks into a smile all
over..she squeals in delight and the young mother looks over at me..she
smiles and says, "Hi Doggy..are you lost?"..My heart flip flops..I yearn
to enter the yard..my tail thumps the ground behind me.."My what a
beautifull Collie", Young Mother exclaims as she approaches the
fence...My tail thumps the ground hard and I wiggle ecstatically..
"Oh, but you're so dirty", Young Mother says...My heart drops
and my ears droop at the disapproving tone.."Oh goodness", Young
Mother laughs, noticing my dejection.."You're a mind reader, I see" She
sighs. "Well, I guess I could wash you up a little and give you a little
something to eat. Would you
like that?" My heart soars..I jump up and down excitedly...Little
girl watches this exchange..sensing that something is being being
decided at some level..she lets out her breath and laughs as Young
Mother opens the gate in the fence and I dash in...I lick little girls
face as she laughs and grabs handsful of my hair..I don't even yip when
she pokes a finger in my eye, so happy am I.."No, no sweety, don't touch
the doggy..first we have to give her a bath." I know what bath is, and I
don't like baths, but I will take a bath if it means staying
here..because some one wants me here..at last...forgotten are my sores
and scabs and aching hurts..dimly, at some doggy level of wisdom, I
sense that happiness is the balm of Gilead.. making all the hurts of
the world recede into the background..
Young Mother ties me to the fence with a piece of rope and goes
into the house leaving me with Little girl who coos at me in the
language of love..a language older than the both of us, but one we both understand perfectly..Happily I answer her in yips and pants
and little barks..We exchange our vows to love one another eternally,
and I realize that there is not just one true love for each of us, but
at least two more....
Young Mother returns with a bucket and some rags and soap and
water..my ears drop for a second and then go back up as Little Girl
laughs and pounds the table on her little walker with both chubby
fists...
Mother proceeds to give me the scrubbing of my life.."Oh my", she
gasps as she sees the raw spots
in my scruffy coat.."guess we'll have to take you to the vet and
see about this."
She towels me off, I'm cleaner now..and loads me and Little Girl
into the old Ford station wagon and off to the vet we go..
Little Girl talks to me all the way to the Vet..Young Mother does
not know that we speak the ancient language of the heart, for like all
grown ups the language of the heart is now partly a closed book to her.
.but at some level she never the less understands that we are
bonding..and she approves of this..I know because she smiles at me in
the rear view mirror..
This is a vet I have never seen and she is angry at the sight of
me..At first I do not understand her anger and I am cautious, expecting
her to throw something at me..But she cups my head loveingly and looks
in my eys and ears and at my coat and I am reassured. She probes and
pokes and I endure the little pains because I see she speaks the
language of love also..so rare for a grownup..hers an ancient and a
noble craft, as old as man. I dub her, "Lady Dog Lover"...
I cannot read the plaque behind her..but Young Mother is reading
it and smiling...
Deliverance.....
I won't be delivered by renouncing the world
My freedom is found in a thousand bonds of delight.
You fill this vessel to the brim
With color and perfume, my world lights
Its hundred lamps with your flame
And lays them on the altar of your temple.
No, the doors of my senses will never be shut
What I see and hear and touch bears your delight
Until all my illusions turn into illuminations
And all my desires ripen into the fruits of love.
--Rabindranath Tagore
I am happy..three soul mates in one day..my cup runneth 'oer.
The stuff the Lady Dog-Lover rubs into my sores stings at first,
then soothes..I groan appreciatively.."Goodness, she talks", the vet
smiles to Young Mother and Little Girl.."She is so smart, I can't
believe it" Young Mother happily exclaims..She is proud of me..this
makes my heart burn up with joy...I would do anything to please her..
On the way back to Young Mothers house, she clucks and hmmms over
the list the vet has given her..she frowns as she studies it at a
stoplight..My ears go down, I whine fearfully.."Don't worry", Young
Mother says as she notices my distress.."We'll get you fixed up"..I am
reassured and go back to babbling contentedly with Little Girl...'Little
Girl' is now becoming 'little Love' in my mind..I no longer think of her
as Little Girl, From now on she will be 'little Love' to me.... We are
bonded, she and I. To us, it seems as if we have always known each
other. Finally, at last..I feel safe. I can sleep. I curl up in a ball
and drift away.
copyright
robert clayton
2001
to be continued............
Bee Jay died two years ago, very suddenly. Sparkles stayed by his side and kissed his face as he left us. The pain was more than I could bear but Sparkles was right there for me. All she wanted in return was my undying love and attention.
Two weeks ago, at almost 13 years old, I took her to our vet, Dr. Bridget Brooks (who saved Bee Jay's life and who he was named for). She told me she would never give me the wrong advise but that Sparkles was quite sick and in a lot of pain and it was time to let her go. The was the most difficult decision I ever made. I knew it was the right thing to do but, nevertheless, it was a very painful decision and I miss her dearly.
I am not yet ready to make the decision, but I can't see never having another collie. I miss their wonderful, loving ways. I keep the picture on my desk of my 3 beauties and smile and have a tear in my eyes at the same time. I feel I would probably love to rescue another homeless collie one day soon.
Plainview, New York
I had a collie named Spree. She was a well behaved pup but at 6 months old she was, well, acting like a pup. My brother had a 2 year old child who didn't see much of animals. We introduced them and the little girl feel in love but of course she was to rough on the pup. She would try to ride Spree and pull her hair. The pup was not happy with the "rude" child. The collie put up with the child. but we had to keep them away. When the girl came to play Spree would jump on the coach and watch her. A month later as the child was playing she bumped her head slightly and to calm her down and to stop the crying her parents went to another room and shut the door. About 10 minutes later, the child was still crying, we heard a whimper in the hall way. I went to see what was wrong and it was Spree. She was at the door whining to come in. As if she knew what was going on, which I think she did, we let her in. As soon as the child saw spree she yelled out a laugh saying "Spee, Spee Puppy" After that they were the best of friends. Spree let the child do whatever she wanted and the child stopped pulling and riding the dog.
lovedcollies@webtv.net
At that time, our daughter had just turned a year old. Coco was still a friendly dog.... however she was very skiddish and not all that trusting. She was skinny and her coat was full of mats and even at the time of year...she had patches of fur just falling out.
Now a few years later, she is completely trained.. doing some agility, and she is more friendly and loving than ever. She even thinks that she can be a lap dog.
I have noticed a major bond developing between Coco and our daughter. One day while walking her.... she became tangled on her leash. I unhooked her as I really only have her on leash because of bi-laws here, and she usually stays right with us..usually.
As I was untangling her, and just about to put her back on her lead, she darted off, teeth bared, fur up and GONE! I look up to see an approximate 80 rottie barreling down the street right for us with it's teeth bared. Coco went full throttle, and TOOK THE ROTTIE DOWN.... hit him right in the chest, the dog fell down to the ground. Coco ran back to us, and "coralled" my daughter and I behind her, growling and baring teeth, and when I would say her name, up went the ears and she was herself.
That amazed me, she is excellent with other dogs, and when other dogs are around our family, but I didn't even see this Rottie coming. Now Coco is spoiled, she has her own pillows, blankets, toys, toy box...etc.
I just wanted to share just how amazing I feel that our Coco is. For a dog that was obviously abused in the past, she is THE best family dog that one could ever ask for.
Thank you for allowing me to share this story.
Collies Forever
Donna & Quinn
Sheba was old, recently deaf, but she was still a puppy at heart - and it showed.
One morning, late as usual, I rushed out the door and headed towards the car, forgetting to leave Sheba inside so she wouldn't go around terrorizing the neighborhood.
I didn't say anything to her as I got in the car, I just knew I'd see her in a few hours, and everything would be fine. The car started,I thought I saw the white tip of a tail in the front of the car, but it was early and my eyes normally play tricks on me.
It wasn't until I heard a thud...Then another that I realized what had happened - what I'd done. I checked the rear-view mirror just to make sure I wasn't going insane, though now I wish I had. I looked just in time to see her squirming on the ground.
In a panicked frenzy I ran to her. Though injured very badly she tried to come to me, battered and bruised she heavily limped towards me, but fell.
My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst. I was terrified, this couldn't be happening - I couldn't have done this! I rushed her to the vet, only to find out they couldn't do anything except help with pain for a short while. She had two shattered legs, three broken ribs, spine damage, and massive internal bleeding. There was only one choice.
With eyes swelled up with tears I had my hand on her head, trying to comfort her as best I could. When they gave her the shot she looked at me, and I had never felt more like the my world had suddenly gone to pieces. What was I without her? She was my everything, my life revolved around her, she was all I had. She put her paw on my hand, as if to comfort me the way she always did. She was smart like that.
I stayed with her as long as I could. Even when I was told "She's gone." I couldn't leave her. I don¹t know why, but I couldn't. She had done so much for me in my life, and this is how I repaid her? As cruel as that sounds, I know in my heart she would've forgiven me, had she another chance.
Collies are smart dogs, loyal and loving. I will always hold a special place in my heart for them.
Forever and always, this is for you Sheba.
MaKenna , age 13